The 'K' Mystery
by strawberryMIKO
Summary: Apparently – yes, it was bad for someone to blog about their obsessions. Especially when their obsession is decades younger than you and currently the woman you desire. "Sherlock, not only is this psycho, but it's completely lunatic and creepy! You sound like a snobbish stalker who has a stick up his ass." IY/BBC!Sherlock drabbles – Kagome x Sherlock
1. Eyes

**A/N:** Yes, this fic will be in Sherlock POV. And, drabble style! I'll probably update regularly. Well, if I get enough good feedback, that is. Kekekeke. Enjoy.

**Standard Disclaimer Applies **

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**Chapter One – Eyes **

This is a restricted document you are viewing. If you are not Sherlock Holmes or have the initials, SH, it is highly suggested that you kindly press the back button or just close the window. On second thought, just close the window.

Thank you.

If not, please proceed to the first entry labeled 'Eyes'.

Ahem.

I followed the woman to her school again. She wore the same white blouse and red plaid skirt as all the other girls attending. Black coat this time, same red gloves along with that hideous beaten, yellow backpack. Mrs. Hudson tells me it's called "Egg-shell yellow".

Revolting color. Hate it.

Something was different today though. I just knew it. John says that it's something called a 'Gut instinct'. That's baffling, really.

Anyway. She had her hair pulled up into a high pony tail. Which, was odd considering she almost always left it cascading down her back. The ends curled slightly; they were natural, I could tell. It had a slight blue hue to it in the sunlight but looked completely black when shaded.

Peculiar? Very. It wasn't dyed since the blue traveled all the way up to her roots. And her skin, very tanned compared to most Asians. Can't be too sure if it's natural since the tan line doesn't seem to stop by the collar of her uniform.

Hm. Note to self: Find her true skin tone.

Moving on.

She nearly caught me today. Perhaps my disguise wasn't convincing enough? I was sure schoolgirls normally wore black stockings with their uniform. Anderson and Donovan roleplayed all the time and _**he**_ always played the female. White next time, definitely.

Her eyes! – that's what was so...perplexing. They were an eerie shade of blue, like I was staring into an open sea. But the waters were chaotic – like a storm was just on the horizon. And it was just a split second but I just know they turned a shade or two darker when she finally made eye contact.

Haunted, _guarded_ even.

There was something else in her eyes though. I had an inkling to what it is but I just can't seem to put my foot on it. Or is it finger? Urgh.

I'm getting frustrated.

I'll ask John when he comes back from his date with _Sarah_.

– SH


	2. Tattoo

**A/N:** Sorry guys, this fic is AU all the way. I get lazy and don't put it in the summary lol. Might change things up a bit as I go along. I'm trying my best to keep Sherlock In-character (it's so hard guys, OMG). So please, bare with me. Anyway, might do daily updates If I get the chance to. Enjoy.

**Standard Disclaimer Applies**

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**Chapter Two – Tattoo**

John was no help last night. Very boring, kept going on about _Sarah_ and his _**horrific**_ date. Apparently, it didn't bode well for the happy couple.

He took her out to dinner. How wonderful.

I advised him not to go, because she _**had been**_ married to another man who lived in the states somewhere. Possibly New York. No wait, I'm positive. The locket she held around her neck looked tattered and used; not completely old to be an heirloom and not extremely new to be recently bought. Plus there was a faded ring band around her finger.

She must have just gotten out of a relationship. A gold digger, perhaps. Not sure what she wants with John, but he **insists** that she's actually a nice woman.

Idiot. Bumbling idiot.

Anyway – that conversation bores me. Moving on.

I got bored again and went to find that woman, the Asian one. John kept spewing a bunch of nonsense about holes in the wall and told me to take my experiments else where. I **had** been trying to find the exact spot a hidden camera would be undetected, but obviously that didn't go over well. Even Mrs. Hudson was against it.

I never liked animals. Never.

So I found her in the park, sitting down under a shaded tree. Her eyes were downcast upon a medical text book out in front of her while her fingers rapidly flew across a spiral notebook with messy cursive.

I couldn't be bothered with her studies. I've taken the course over a dozen times already.

But something caught my eye when she suddenly lifted her head up to rub her sore neck. I had to admit – my attention had been piqued. There, at the junction where her jawline and neck connected, was a barely visible tattoo of a blue crescent.

It was small, about half an inch of my index finger. Pale blue, almost faded into her skin.

I couldn't quite place _**where**_ she might have gotten it done. Her homeland, maybe? Because the tattoo seemed to be imprinted into her very skin.

Which is _highly_ impossible. Yet, there it is, upon her bare, tanned flesh.

- SH


	3. Knowing

**A/N:** Sorry for the late update. Inspiration to write is hard to come by nowadays.

**Standard Disclaimer Applies**

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**Chapter Three – Knowing **

Sigh.

Is it possible for one to die from stupidity?

**.**

**.**

**.**

Hm. That question remains to be seen. There's people like me and...everyone else. I dare not rope myself with those who can't keep up with my intellectuality. Is it my fault you people are slow and brainless? No, I think not.

….and John says _**I **_need to work on my social skills. Preposterous.

Honestly, it becomes tiresome when I have explain myself to such idiots who can't seem to grasp such simple concepts. It's **deductive reasoning**! How simple-minded are you stupid people?!

– ahem. Anyway. Boring week, nothing new. I can't be bothered with Mrs. Hudson and her lost _kitty cat_. Wasting my time on inane tasks such as those is **abhorring**. So annoying.

But nothing abhorred me the most than that blasted female – Kagome, I found her name to be. It was easy, really. Molly would really do just about anything for a bit of attention. Females really do pay particular attention to compliments. Interesting, really interesting.

But her. _**Her**_. I spotted her sitting at a nearby cafe. There was a small cup of steaming coffee seated in front of her and a half-eaten croissant sitting idly on a glass plate. A few crumbs were on the table and she seemed to be deeply engrossed in that medical textbook of hers. She was drinking a white mocha, no milk and no classic. Unsweetened, I believe.

Disgusting.

I was about a few buildings down from where she was seated but I just know she knew I was watching her. I'm still trying to deduct just how she seemed to know where I was and when I watching her. Did she really know? Or was it just mere coincidence that she seemed to have lifted her head up and stared straight at me with those knowing, blue orbs of hers?

I highly doubt it though. But the question remains to be seen.

– SH


End file.
